


Not Diplomacy

by CorsetJinx



Category: Final Fantasy IV: The After Years
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7947688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He understands where they stand - as old friends, comrades, and respected leaders of nations - but there’s a difference between being supportive and being diplomatic.</p>
<p>Edge is hopeful that he’s gotten better at the former.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Diplomacy

The hot, no _boiling_ , atmosphere of the Underworld was something he hadn’t missed from the journey seventeen years ago - though he found that it was still more bearable from the deck of an airship than from ground level. He hadn’t had much chance to appreciate it when he’d leapt from the Tower, trusting in the unseen and gambling everything on a shred of chance - a few precious seconds of watching the molten terrain of the Underworld grow ever closer enough to make him question if it had been the best move.

But, here they were, more or less in one piece with his Four clustered about the ship - each examining the passing view with varying levels of curiosity. Luca kept her place at the wheel, only taking her eyes off their course whenever one of them did something to draw her gaze. Calca and Brina stayed where they were, on either side of her, much to his relief.

He tried not to think about the man in black standing at the prow of the Enterprise, back to them all and less than ten words spoken between them. What wasn’t hinted at or given away outright by the paleness of his hair and the color of his eyes - never mind the aura around him or the familiar commanding voice - left just enough room for plausible doubt that Edge didn’t quite mind pretending he didn’t have some idea of who the man was. Rydia and Luca had vouched for him, both women entirely serious when he’d met their gazes.

Arguing about it seemed unnecessary, after that.

Rydia. The thought of her name was enough to draw his attention to her once more, her green and gold leotard the brightest thing on the ship next to Luca’s cheerful pink and white. The sight of green was comforting - not just for the fact this was the closest he’d gotten to stand with her since his last visit to Mist. The lack of grass and trees in their current surroundings was understandable, but that didn’t make him miss the Upper World any less.

She’d chastened him just as much, maybe more, than Izayoi had for his foolishness. Not unlike how they’d first met, he remembered - not without a bit of fondness and the slightest hint of shame. Now, in the quiet of the Enterprise’s flight, she’d taken up a spot by the starboard railing. She was the only other one to lean out so far to peer at the lava as they flew over it, seemingly unaffected by the brightness and the heat.

He settled for slouching against the rail, resting most of his weight on folded arms as he stood beside her - not quite comfortable with exposing his face to the blistering sight below.

It itched a little as neither of them said anything, but he felt a little better about it as he stole a look at her face. The wind pushed most of her hair back, tossed the wavy green just as happily as it did sea foam on the Upper World’s beaches. It let him spot things he might not have caught otherwise - the ruddiness in her cheeks mostly from the heat rather than cheer or good health, a tightness in her expression that seemed out of place.

Her hands, he noticed, were gripping the wood of the rail a little too tightly.

As though she’d caught him looking, she spoke - tone not quite as forced as his Chancellor’s when the man wanted him to do something, but close. “Hello, Edge.”

“Rydia.” He hummed back, shifting his weight to his other foot. A lava bubble burst right then, drawing his gaze but not the whole of his attention. “Not feeling well?”

“It’s nothing.” She said softly, her fingers releasing their grasp on the rail as though she’d just noticed how tightly she’d been gripping it. She flexed them carefully, one at a time, subtle enough that he might not have paid attention if he hadn’t been looking.

Edge found that it would be easier to believe that the Red Moon would simply disappear right then if he wished hard enough than those two words. A remnant of a conversation flickered through his mind and he was tempted to crane his head, look for a familiar tucked-away cave. It would be too far to see by now, of course, but he remembered the general direction of the Feymarch.

“It isn’t your fault, y’know.” He plucked a stray thread from his cape as he said it, watching the thin strip of dyed red bounce in the wind made by the airship’s wake before letting it go. It disappeared from his sight quickly enough that he didn’t try and track it, instead turning his head enough to look up at Rydia instead.

She frowned, deeper than he could recall from recent memory. There was a look he couldn’t quite place in her eyes, only that it turned them dark and sad - similar to how she’d looked after she’d seen the burnt out remains of Mist, before the first refugee had emerged to greet her.

“They are my family, Edge. If I hadn’t…” She trailed off there, pressing her lips into a thin line and narrowed her eyes at the horizon above his head. A far-off look took over her expression and he was familiar enough with the look of guilt to see it surface for a brief moment before she pushed it down.

“You had no idea, so how could you be held accountable for what that woman did?” He waited, privately relieved when her eyes focused on him again. Edge dared a small flash of a half-smile, knowing she would catch it even with his mask still covering the lower portion of his face. “Just because they’re lost now doesn’t mean they’ve abandoned you. And,” he allowed his eyes to curve faintly, to show his sincerity, “you aren’t any less just because you can’t summon them.”

For a moment, he thought he saw something flicker in her eyes. It was gone in a second however, her expression shuttering and then Rydia turned her face away.

He let his own smile drop, feeling foolish all over again and a little ashamed.

Silence stretched out between them once more, the wind snatching away whatever bits of conversation the others were having. Edge watched the play of light over the hull of the airship, rolling different words around his mouth before settling on the ones that felt most correct.

“I’m sorry, Rydia. That was insensitive.”

She didn’t say anything, her face still averted when he peeked at her from the peripheral of his vision.

He settled for remaining quiet as well, shifting to stand a little straighter - giving her a little more space. In the distance he could see an approaching landmass - dark brown and a little gray like the rest of the Underworld’s terrain. As he straightened up fully something shifted in one of the pouches he kept, the tingle of magic he felt stirring his memory. Reaching in, his fingers closed around something rough and flat.

The token reflected the reddish-orange light oddly to him, words inscribed on its surface even less legible than they’d been in the Upper World. He glances up from the detailed carving of a Bomb to look at Rydia, taking in the set of her shoulders before speaking up.

“I know it’s not the same,” Her head turned a little at that, enough that she was looking at him again. He offered the token to her, palm up and fingers splayed, serious as he could ever remember being. “But I think this will be more useful to you than me.”

Green eyes dropped to look at it, widening a fraction before returning to his face. He didn’t blink as she searched his expression for… whatever she was looking for, remaining still until she slowly reached out. Their fingers didn’t brush but he thought he could feel some of the heat off her skin as she took the palm-sized carving from him.

“Where..?” She was looking at him again, curious and more animated than she had been since he and his Four had crash landed on the Enterprise.

It made him want to smile, seeing that spark of energy in her again.

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of Bombs that I had to wade through to get here.” He shrugged, lightening his tone into something verging on playful. “One of them dropped it and I happened to pick it up. If it helps you,” he added, turning serious again, “then it was worth it.”

Rydia’s lips twitched at that, as though unsure whether or not to smile but she nodded as she held the token close. Something like gratitude flickered in her expression and Edge chose that moment to look away, pretending to crack his neck.

“Thank you, Edge.”

“No problem.”


End file.
